


The Heroes of Thedas

by Leabbott



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3157520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leabbott/pseuds/Leabbott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and random prompts I've gotten on tumblr or found elsewhere. Just a place for me to put them really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She's Missing, Not Dead (Alistair x Female Surana SFW)

**Author's Note:**

> Something that came to my head from a WriteWorld prompt, the sentence being "She's missing, not dead." Fic takes place three months after the Wardens disappearence, in the same realm as my previous fic "On the Eve of Battle," in which Lyra Surana and Alistair Theirin marry on the night of the dark ritual before the battle for Denerim. 
> 
> Originally posted to my tumblr, here: http://malleusmaleficar.tumblr.com/post/107758209147/shes-missing-not-dead

"She's  _missing,_ not  _dead!_ " Alistair hissed at Arl Eamon as he stalked angrily in front of the throne, back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, hands squeezing each other so tight behind his back he thought for sure the leather of his gloves might split. 

"I'm just saying, Alistair, that we need to consider the possibility -- " Arl Aemon continued, standing on the bottom step in front of him, but Alistair would have none of it.

"She's been gone for  _three months_  and already you're suggesting I take another wife?" He whirled on his former-guardian-turned-advisor, fury blatant in his eyes as his hand reached for the sword he knew wouldn't be clasped at his shoulder, that hadn't been clasped there for years, but in that moment he was transported back to the battlefield once more and he could almost feel the weight of it against his back. He quickly recovered by rubbing at the back of his neck, but the Arl was not fooled. 

Sensing the tension, Eamon took a step back, hands raised so as to not provoke his king. "With all due respect, Alistair, I am merely suggesting that it would perhaps benefit the kingdom to once again have a Queen, a  _real_ Queen." He knew immediately, however, that that was the absolutely wrong thing to say, and quickly backpedalled to almost the middle of the room as Alistair pounced on him.

"A  _real_  Queen? Pray tell, Eamon, what exactly made Lyra not a  _real_  Queen?"

"I'm sure that's not what he meant to say, Alistair -- " Bann Teagan, who had been quietly watching the exchange from the corner of the room, began to say. 

"Do not defend him, Bann Teagan. He meant every word of it." Alistair snapped, and Teagan remained where he stood, retreating to watch the exchange silently once more.

The King took a step closer to his advisor, snarl barely held in check as his upper lip quivered. "Answer your King."

Despire Arl Eamon's posturing, Alistair with his strong build loomed over him, and he could feel sweat pooling at the back of his neck. "Well, for one, she cannot have children -- "

"That is bullshit, Eamon, and you know it!" Alistair was not normally one for cursing, but Eamon's words were making him seethe. "You're lying, and I know it. You were referring to her status as an elf, and a mage, as if that had any bearing on her ability to rule!" If Alistair were to tell the truth, Lyra had taken to ruling far better than Alistair had, and much of the successes of Ferelden since their crowning he attributed to her. She somehow had a natural instinct for it, and without her, he felt incredibly lost. All he wanted was her safe return, and now Eamon was suggesting he forsake her altogether in favor of a human queen? Never before had he felt such anger as was burning in his chest now.

"I am saying, Alistair, that the status of the Queen's heritage has been causing tension amongst the nobles for some time now. This is the perfect opportunity to quell them." Eamon spoke matter-of-factly, but took another step back for good measure as Alistair glowered at him, fists clenching and unclenching in his restrictive leather gloves.

"So, what, you suggest I forsake my holy vows to the woman I love to sate some blasted nobles?" The growl in his voice was almost predatory, and he didn't leave an opening for the Arl to even answer. "Leave me, Arl Eamon, and by the Maker I will have you arrested for treason if you dare make such a suggestion again."

The Arl left quietly, and Alistair exited the throne room through the back entrance, ignoring Bann Teagan completely and stalking quickly towards his room, completely missing the bows and curtseys of his servants as he went. By the time the door to his and Lyra's chambers clicked quietly behind him all of his rage had seeped away, and he was left exhausted and sagging against the doorframe. He messily stripped himself of his dress leathers -- the damn garments that Arl Eamon  _insisted_ he wear everyday to denote his stature as King, the same ones he never wore when Lyra was still with him -- and tossed them to ground, walking over to the wash basin to splash water in his face. In the dark of the room, lit only by a single candle by his bed, he barely recognized the person staring back at him in the mirror. When had those wrinkles appeared, lightly etched into his forehead, around his eyes and mouth? And those dark circles, carefully shaded over after each sleepless night he lied awake for the loss of her small body beside him, when had the become so prominent? 

"Three months." He murmured. Three months of her missing was all it had taken for him to become a shell of the man he once was. For eight years he had remained the same goofy, friendly Alistair he knew had won his wife's heart, not for her benefit but because he had the option to, with her around to share the burden of the crown. And in those three, achingly long months of her absense, his laugh lines had turned to frown lines, worry now permanently etched into his brow, grief and anger a permanent weight upon his chest. 

It took all of his strength to make his way to the bed before collapsing. _Maker, did I really threaten to have Arl Eamon arrested for treason?_ He thought in anguish as he rolled onto his back, one arm hanging off the edge of their bed as he stared up at the ceiling. It was so unlike him, or rather the man he used to be. But three months was a long time, and so much had changed for the worst since she left as he realized he could not do this alone. 

His arm ached as he pulled the carefully folded and refolded letter out from under his pillow to read, as he had done every night, since she had left him, "to find the cure for our callings" she had written. It still seemed too surreal to him, that she was really gone, vanished without a trace except for the letter he allowed no one to read but him. He still sometimes awoke thinking she'd be lying next to him, short hair tousled across her pillow and hand in his, only to have his heartache renewed as reality crashed upon him. 

"You're just missing. You're not dead." Alistair whispered to himself as he read the last line of the letter _,_ and he could no longer tell if he was reciting a fact or a prayer.


	2. You Ripped My Heart Out (Fenris x Female Hawke SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Person A having the ability to rip out hearts from peoples’ chests, so Person B constantly makes jokes about Person A ‘taking their heart away’. Bonus: Person C is the one groaning in the back/laughing with Person A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted here: http://malleusmaleficar.tumblr.com/post/113326870472/otpprompts-imagine-person-a-having-the-ability-to

Fenris raised an eyebrow when he heard Kemble and Isabela snickering behind him, but continued down the alley, alert for any sign of bandits ahead while they made their way home from the Hanged Man. By the third time he had turned at the sound of Kemble’s snort, and received only muffled giggles behind hands in response, he had had enough.

"What exactly is so funny?" He turned, glaring at the two of them as Isabela jabbed Kemble in the ribs with her elbow. Kemble giggled again, shoving Isabela away even as he heard the pirate whisper "Do it! You agreed!"

Evidently no further coaxing was needed, as Kemble stumbled over to him and pressed herself to his armor, wrists lazily crossed behind his head as her arms encircled him. Fenris could smell the spicy scent of rum on her breath from their game of Wicked Grace.

"Fenris." She began, eyebrows furrowing in a distracting fashion as she fought her clouded judgment to focus on him. Fenris merely raised an eyebrow, hands coming up to hold her hips lightly.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" She slurred, nuzzling his nose as his mouth curled into a smirk.

"Yes, you have, and now it’s time to go home." He chuckled, attempting to pull out of her grasp and continue down the alley.

"Wait!" She held fast, her fingers entangling in his hair even as one of her hands reached down to grab his. "I love you  _so_  much, and started loving you  _so_  quickly - ” She lifted his hand to press against her breast and he coughed, hyperaware of Isabela clutching her sides in silent laughter behind Kemble. ” - that it’s  _almost_  like you - ” Her hazy expression and slurred speech dropped as she deadpanned ” - ripped my heart out.”

Isabela guffawed then, hand coming up to cover her mouth even as Kemble lost herself to a fit of giggles, pressing her forehead to his. Fenris was not amused.

"C’mon, Fenris!  _That_  was funny, you gotta admit!” She slurred between giggles, eyes closing as she grinned in a tell-tale sign that she was well and truly inebriated.

Fenris sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for an exasperated moment as he fought a smile from creeping onto his unamused expression. “Let’s go home, Hawke. You’re drunk.”


	3. The Piano (Cullen x Female Trevelyan SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP have been living together for a while, say, one year. One day, Person A decides to surprise Person B by coming home early. When they do, they hear piano music coming from the living room. They have a grand piano there that Person B inherited from a relative, but neither of them use it. Person A walks in and finds Person B playing a beautiful, albeit unfamiliar piece. After noticing that Person A is there, Person B becomes flustered and tries to leave, but Person A says that it’s okay, that it was beautiful. Not only that, it also turns out to have been Person B’s original composition. What happens next is up to you. Bonus: Person A then convinces Person B to perform at a local cafe/jazz club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted here: http://malleusmaleficar.tumblr.com/post/113449014897/otpprompts-imagine-your-otp-have-been-living

Since Corypheus’s end Abril found her role as Inquisitor had become less and less relevant as time passed and fade rift after fade rift was closed, unable to reopen for lack of the darkspawn magister. Josie insisted that the Inquisition would stay strong, and Leliana had shifted her spies’ tasks from Venatori and Red Templars to political intrigue and rumors, but Abril understood that her role as head of the Inquisition had diminished to merely a symbol of strength. She thought on this as she dragged her aching feet towards her room, weary from a month-long expedition to close fade rifts near the Korcari Wilds. An end to her duties as leader of the Inquisition would be a welcomed change. She could help her fellow mages in the Mage/Templar war, settle down, start a family…

The sound of soft music drifting from the Great Hall drew her from her reverie. Abril’s eyebrows furrowed. It was the middle of the night, why would anyone be awake? Adjusting her course, she entered the hall near the dais, searching for the source of the tune as her eyes fell on her Commander sitting at the Grand Piano that had been placed in the far corner of the room. It had been a gift from a minor Orlesian Noble looking to gain the Inquisition’s favor, and despite seemingly no one in the Inquisition having the ability to play it Josie had insisted on placing it in the Great Hall for all to see.

And now Cullen sat in his linen nightshirt and soft leather trousers on the piano bench, deft fingers dancing slowly across the keys to create a gentle yet beautiful tune that carried throughout the large room. She watched, utterly entranced as she leaned against her throne, heart swelling with pride and love as the muscles in his shoulders and back shifted with each move of his hand.

After a moment, when his hands had begun to slow into uncertainty, Abril moved towards him silently. “I didn’t know you could play.” She said quietly, stifling a laugh as he jumped and snapped his head to face her.

He appeared both mortified that she had caught him and incredibly relieved that she had returned, the two emotions warring across his features as she leaned down and pressed her lips tightly to his. His panic melted away then, fingers burying themselves into her loose ponytail with a smile.

After a moment he flustered once more, remembering their location. “I don’t normally – I didn’t know you’d return so – didn’t think – ”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. “It was beautiful, Cullen. Please don’t stop on my account.” It amazed her how he could still get so flustered by her unexpected presence even after they’d been together for so long.

It took him only a moment’s hesitation before he shifted in her arms, fingers beginning their slow melody as Abril rested her chin on his shoulder, allowing her eyes to drift shut in order to enjoy the music more.

“I learned when I first came to the chantry.” Cullen murmured quietly as he played, content to have her familiar warmth at his back once more. “We were all required to learn to sing the Chant, but I would stay after to learn how to play from the Sisters.”

With a smile she kissed his temple once more. “You never mentioned that before.”

He chuckled, the warmth of it vibrating through her chest. “Never came up in conversation, really.”

They remained silent for a while longer, perfectly content to enjoy each other’s company even as Abril fought back a yawn. Only when she recognized him starting the tune over once more did she speak. “I’ve never heard this song before, is it from the Chant?”

She could feel Cullen’s cheeks grow warm against hers as he cleared his throat. “No, it’s – ah – it’s an original composition.”

“Oh, is that so? What’s the occasion? Will there be singing in it as well?” She chuckled, pressing a kiss to his pulse as she stroked his hair. It felt so good to have him in her arms again.

Cullen swallowed, sighing as he felt her lips brush against his neck. “It’s…well, I haven’t gotten that far yet, but… I mean, there’s no occasion – ” He let out a grunt that Abril recognized immediately.

“Words?” She chuckled, sitting with her back facing the piano so she could better see his face. It had become a habit between them so simply say “words” when the other was having trouble finding what to say. She herself had been nearly as awkward as he when their feelings for each other had become known, and his understanding of her predicament had made everything easier.

With a nod Cullen glanced at her and then away, fingers stilling as his eyes closed. “It’s for you, actually.” He mumbled, and Abril felt her heart swell. After a moment of silence Cullen continued playing, focusing on his hands as his words came back to him. “I work on it every time you leave. I wanted to… Well, I was hoping it would be ready before you returned this time, but evidently – ”

Abril’s words caught in her throat as she watched his hands dance across the keys. Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she could finally begin to speak. “I… Cullen, it’s – I don’t know what to say. ”

He glanced away. “Words?” He hoped she liked it, hoped she didn’t find it strange and hoped she appreciated it.

“Words.” She agreed, taking a shaking breath as a smile broke across her face and she threw her arms around him. Burrowing her face in his shoulder, she sighed. “It’s so beautiful, Cullen. Thank you, I love it.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair. She smelled of sweat and cinnamon and tea-tree oil. “I’m glad you like it.” He nuzzled her temple as she sighed, content.


End file.
